Shut Up and Hold Me
by BlackthornUnicorn98
Summary: Draco Malfoy has it bad for the one girl that he knows he can never have. But what happens when he witnesses a fight between her and her best friend about her date to the Yule Ball? Will he step in to help the girl that he's fallen so hard for? Dramione one-shot. Rewrite of Goblet of Fire scene involved.


**Hey lovelies! So, I decided to write my own take on how the Yule Ball could have gone if Draco had feelings for Hermione. I know this is almost a borderline cliche topic that Harry Potter fanfiction writers try to tackle, but I love it because there are so many different ways that it could go, and that's sort of why I decided to try my hand at it. It's purely for fun, and I hope you guys enjoy it! As usual, I do not own the setting or the characters - they all belong to J.K. Rowling, of course. And that bit of dialogue in the middle-you should recognize that from Goblet of Fire. And yes, there is a bit OOC-ness in this one. It's for the plot. Sue me :)**

He'd always hated dances.

Draco Malfoy had been subjected to them since he was very young. His parents, with their high social standing and multitude of rich, good-for-nothing friends who had nothing better to do with their money, took every opportunity they could to drag him to some sort of party that happened to include a dance floor. He would watch everyone around him, writhing and jerking along to whatever abhorrent music the orchestra was playing, and eventually his mother would haul him out into the middle of everything and expect him to enjoy it.

Which he never did.

Now, Draco stood in front of a mirror in the Slytherin common room, adjusting his dark green tie and grumbling to himself. Just when he thought he was done being forced to attend all those stupid balls and parties, now Hogwarts was throwing one for the Triwizard Tournament. And of course, everyone was expected to attend. So there he was.

The door to the common room opened, and Blaise Zabini strode in, looking as high and mighty as ever. He was dressed very similarly to Draco, with black dress robes and a green tie looped around his collar. Yet, oddly enough, the sight of his best friend irritated Draco immediately, and he continued to straighten his tie, not once bothering to greet Blaise.

"Ready for the dance, Malfoy?" he asked enthusiastically. "It's sure to be quite a fun time, I've heard."

Draco rolled his eyes. "What sort of mundane question is that?" he demanded. "Look at me! I've never been more excited!"

Blaise regarded him with a cold stare. "You possess a great many talents, Malfoy, but lying is certainly not one of them."

Draco shrugged off Blaise's comment and continued to adjust his tie. A familiar feeling of pain welled up inside of him. _I'm better at lying than you think I am, twat,_ he thought.

After a few seconds of tense silence, Blaise cleared his throat. "You're waiting for Parkinson, aren't you?" he asked, smoothing out the sleeves of his dress robes. "I mean, you're all she's been talking about for the last week."

"Wonderful," Draco muttered. When he'd asked Pansy to the dance the week before, she'd been far more ecstatic than he had expected her to be. It was no secret that Pansy had had it bad for Draco for a while, but he still wasn't prepared for her jumping up and down like a schoolgirl and hollering her acceptance at the top of her lungs. Draco knew, in his heart, why he had asked Pansy in the first place: a bloke showing up to the Yule Ball with a girl like her was far better than a bloke showing up all by his lonesome.

"You _do_ seem thrilled," Blaise replied sarcastically. "Let me guess. She's not your first choice, I'd imagine?"

Draco sent him a death glare, indicating that his friend needed to shut up. "So, who are you going with, then?" he demanded, desperate for a change in conversation.

Blaise smirked. "That Greengrass girl," he replied. "Had my eye on her for a while."

"Which Greengrass girl?" Draco inquired. "There's two."

"Blimey, Malfoy! You don't really think I'd go for a second-year, do you?" exclaimed Blaise. "No, I went for Daphne. She's an uncommonly fine witch, don't you think?"

Draco shrugged. "I suppose."

Before Blaise could make another comment, the door to the girls' dormitory slammed, and the boys' dates flounced gracefully down the stairs. Daphne was dressed in a long, flowing, light green-and-blue gown with off-the-shoulder sleeves and ruffles on the end of the skirt. Pansy had opted for a darker, more emerald-colored gown with no sleeves and intricate black thread designs woven into the bodice. Both girls' hair were nearly styled the same: mops of dark curls piled on top of their heads.

While Blaise whistled at the sight of Daphne, Draco didn't bother showing much reaction upon seeing Pansy. Though she did look pretty good, he couldn't help but long for the girl he'd originally wanted to ask to the ball. The one that he'd been secretly heartbroken to hear already had a date with some mystery boy well before the 'magical' night was to begin. He reprimanded himself now, angry that he hadn't been able to get up the nerve to ask her sooner.

Draco swallowed his bitter thoughts and held out his arm. "You look great," he said monotonously.

Pansy didn't seem to notice his cold attitude toward her, and cheerfully looped her arm around his. "Well, I know that, but thank you! You're pretty dashing yourself. Come on, Blaise, Daphne. We don't want to miss the opening dance! I hear it's supposed to be wonderful!"

And the four Slytherins took off for the Great Hall, with very mixed emotions circulating between each and every one of them.

By the time they arrived at the Great Hall, it was already filled with students and professors alike. The moment they entered, Draco wanted to leave; he hated the thought of dancing around with a huge group of people like this.

As they traipsed down the steps, Draco spotted Professor McGonagall walking briskly toward him, and he managed to keep his feet firmly planted on the floor. "Good evening, students," the old woman said. "The opening dance is about to begin, so please proceed into the Great Hall with the rest of your classmates." And before anyone had a chance to respond, McGonagall was off, probably to tell another group of students the same thing.

Blaise chuckled. "Well, come on, you lot," he said, motioning for his housemates to follow.

Draco felt Pansy tug on his arm, and he followed, biting back the urge to snap at her. As they walked into the Great Hall, Draco began to search the room for his dream date. Where was she? Why wasn't she here? Did she even come at all?

Before long, the doors to the Great Hall opened, and Blaise turned to whisper to Draco. "The champions, right?"

"Probably," Draco murmured back. "Bloody proud, they are, I'm sure. Being the first to dance and getting all this attention."

"Mate, their lives are in danger here," said Blaise. "You know how dangerous those tasks are. I mean, so far, there's been dragons...who knows what else-"

"I get it," Draco snapped, turning his attention back to the doors. He was dreading the coming dance with every second that passed, and the sight of the champions and their dates didn't make things any easier. The line of champions began to approach the dance floor, and Draco began to look upon them with righteous condemnation.

First in line was Fleur Delacour and her date, Roger Davies, one of the Chasers of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. He looked extremely proud of himself for securing such a pretty girl as his date, and Draco rolled his eyes. Slytherin and Ravenclaw had played each other many times, which had led to a silent but growing animosity on his part for the sixth-year Chaser.

Draco spotted Cho Chang and Cedric Diggory next, due in part to Cedric's tall frame and mop of wavy hair. Cedric was a quiet Hufflepuff, to be sure, and Draco had never really interacted with him or Cho at all. But he decidedly supported Cedric over the _other_ Hogwarts champion.

He kept looking and finally spotted Harry Potter himself, looking extremely uncomfortable with the entire situation, and Draco couldn't help but smile. Harry had always been his number one nemesis, and seeing the Chosen One in such visible distress boosted Draco's spirits drastically. Harry's date, one of the Patil twins, seemed very excited, only seeming to inadvertently add to Harry's discomfort.

As the line of champions passed Draco and his friends, a sight caught the blonde Slytherin's eye that made his heart drop to his stomach. The fourth champion, an eighteen-year-old wizard named Viktor Krum, walked along confidently, with his red cape flowing along behind him. Like Roger, Viktor seemed very pleased at the prospect of attending a fancy dance with a lovely date, but it wasn't really the Bulgarian Seeker himself that made Draco clench his fists.

It was Viktor's date. She wore a beautiful, flowing gown of different, layered shades of blue that cascaded all the way to the floor. The sleeves were ruffled, as was the gown itself, and fitted her form perfectly. Her curly hair was piled at the back of her head in a small bun, with a stray lock or two falling over her left shoulder. And she barely wore any makeup at all; not that she really needed it in the first place. As she and Viktor walked on gracefully, only one thought seemed to echo in Draco's mind.

Hermione Granger looked like nothing less than an angel.

His thoughts were interrupted by Pansy tapping on his arm. "How did that Granger girl get a date like Viktor, do you suppose?" she exclaimed. "She's nothing. And he's...well, he's something. A legend. An athlete."

"I know what he is," Draco muttered, turning away and refusing to answer the question. Instead, he focused on the dance floor, where the champions and their dates were beginning to dance. It immediately became clear to Draco that Viktor was a skilled dancer; he seemed to know exactly what the hell he was doing.

And Draco was seething at the sight of it.

The dance continued on, and eventually Pansy managed to drag her unenthusiastic date out onto the dance floor, not bothering to notice that he was slowly becoming less and less interested in being with her as the minutes passed. They danced together, with Pansy being far too bizarre and awkward with her movements and Draco staring off into space, completely distracted. The opening dance finally ended, and after a while longer of slow songs and orchestral music, Albus Dumbledore introduced the Weird Sisters, a famous wizarding rock band that he had managed to book to play at the Ball. All in attendance, including Pansy and Daphne, were clearly ecstatic.

Draco took the opportunity to wander away from the crowd of screaming teenagers in search of the punch bowl and something to snack on. As he headed across the room and into the courtyard, he spotted Hermione by herself. She seemed elated and happy, probably because of Viktor, and as much as Draco wished that it could be _him_ eliciting that happiness out of her, it still made his heart warm nonetheless.

He watched as Hermione sat down on the fountain next to Harry, Ron, and Padma Patil, all of whom looked quite miserable. She began to talk cheerfully to them, but Draco was surprised to see what he assumed to be Ron snapping at her and belittling her for something. She seemed very offended by his words, which Draco couldn't quite hear, but the moment he went to move closer, Hermione stood up and stormed off angrily. As Ron's date departed as well, Draco couldn't help but wonder what had made Ron and Hermione so angry. And he pondered it all the way to the punch table.

Six glasses of punch and four cookies later, Draco finally spotted Blaise in the distance, hand-in-hand with Daphne. They seemed to be having a wonderful time together, but the moment Blaise laid eyes on Draco, who was sitting by himself at the table, he excused himself from Daphne and walked briskly over, a look of concern on his face. "Malfoy? Where have you been?" he asked. "Thought you'd be with Pansy about now."

"Why?" Draco asked. "Why would I be with her?"

Blaise crossed his arms. "Because she's your date? Because you invited her here? Come on, man. What's with you tonight?"

Draco flicked an empty punch cup across the table. "I don't want to talk about it."

Much to Draco's chagrin, Blaise pulled up a chair and sat down next to his roommate. "Tell me what's going on and why you're so pissed off," he demanded. "You know that Pansy will ask the same, so you might as well get it out now."

Draco sighed in defeat. "I didn't want to come here with her," he muttered. "And all the girls that asked me, I didn't want to come with them either."

"Then why did you ask Pansy?" Blaise wondered aloud. "Why lead her on?"

"I'm not!" Draco said defensively.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. She's got everyone thinking you two are total lovebirds. Bit disturbing, actually. And she's been hanging on your every move all night."

"So? What more is there to say?" Draco grumbled. "I tried to enjoy myself, but it wasn't working. This whole night was a huge mistake. I'm just torturing myself. I want what I can't have...what I'll never have. I'm a complete idiot, Blaise."

"You are," Blaise agreed. "But that shouldn't stop you from going after what you want, now, should it?"

Draco looked solemnly up into his roommate's eyes. As much as he wanted to agree, he knew there was no way. Hermione Granger was on a completely different part of the spectrum than he was. She was a brave, honest, courageous, know-it-all Gryffindor, a kind and honest person, and a beautiful young woman...he'd never met someone so unlike himself. But that was a big part of what drew him to her. He secretly adored how she always raised her hand in class, even when the professor didn't call on her. He loved the coy little half-smile that always appeared on her lips whenever she was concentrating very hard on her homework or her books that she always carried with her. And something about the way her eyes sparkled when she was happy made him completely melt inside. His hidden affection for the Muggle-born witch was his only downfall, his deepest and most desperate desire, and yet, he knew he would never be able to tell her-or anyone else-how he truly felt.

"Yes, Blaise. It should," Draco muttered, snapping out of his thoughts. "I can't talk about this anymore. I don't want to think on it any longer. I'm going back to the dormitory. Tell Pansy I wasn't feeling well."

Blaise placed a hand on his best friend's arm. "Daphne said she was going to go with Eloise and Millicent to the gardens," he said softly. "I think Pansy is going to join them."

"So I have no chance of running into her, then," said Draco. "Good." He stood up and walked away, leaving Blaise alone.

Draco walked out of the Great Hall, beginning to feel more sadness tugging at his heart than ever before. By that point in his life, he had learned to disguise when he was feeling any sort of anguish; he would pass it off as anger, or maybe just frustration. But he never allowed himself to show what would be labeled as weak emotions like pain or fear in front of others. And so he sped up, even more eager to get back to his dormitory for some privacy and much-needed peace of mind.

"He's using you!"

The sound of Ron Weasley's irritated voice reached Draco's ears, and he stopped short. Ron came into his view, followed by an extremely angry Hermione. The two seemed to be in the middle of some sort of serious altercation, and Draco couldn't keep himself from listening. "How dare you!" Hermione retorted. "Besides, I can take care of myself!"

"Doubt it," Ron shot back. "He's way too old!"

Draco's eyes widened as he followed the quarreling pair, realizing that they must have been talking about Viktor Krum.

"What?!" Hermione shrieked. "What? That's what you think?"

"Yeah, that's what I think!" Ron said back, barely any emotion at all in his voice.

Hermione clenched her fists. "You know the solution, then, don't you?"

Ron stopped. "Go on!" he goaded.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Hermione stared right up into Ron's eyes. "Next time there's a ball, pluck up the courage and ask me before somebody else does!" she shouted. "And _not_ as a last resort!"

Draco hid himself behind a pillar nearby, becoming angrier by the second. _Why would anyone ever choose Granger as a last resort for anything?_

Ron began to back away, nearly tripping up the nearby stairs. "Well, tha-that's just completely off the point!" he protested. "Harry!"

Draco glanced over and saw Harry approaching his two bickering friends, clearly confused by what was happening. Hermione stormed up to him angrily as he tried to explain himself. "Where have you been?! Never mind. Off to bed, both of you!" she commanded.

Harry nervously skidded around Hermione, who was wiping tears from her eyes. As he climbed the steps, Ron glanced back at Hermione. "They get scary when they get older," he muttered.

On impulse, Draco clenched his fists, ready to beat the everloving hell out of Ron, and Hermione turned around. "Ron, you spoiled _everything!_" she screamed at him, her voice breaking.

Without another word from anyone, Ron and Harry disappeared up the steps and out of sight, while Hermione sank down to the floor, sobbing quietly to herself. At the sight, Draco started to soften, and forgot about beating up Ron for a second. He contemplated staying put, but after a moment, he approached the broken girl on the steps. "Granger?"

The instant that Hermione looked up, her tearstained face twisted with rage. "What do _you_ want, Malfoy?" she demanded in between sniffles.

Draco knelt down beside her. "I heard everything," he said softly. "What happened just now, between you and Weasley."

"And?" Hermione demanded. "Why are you telling me this?"

Draco shrugged. "I...well, he doesn't deserve you, Granger," he mumbled. "You're far too good for him, you know."

Hermione wiped her eyes. "And why is it that you're suddenly trying to be nice to me, huh?" she asked.

"I don't know," Draco admitted. "It just made me mad, what he said."

"Were you spying on us?" asked Hermione. "On me? Is that how you know so damn much?"

Draco shook his head. "You call it spying. I call it a convenient accident," he quipped.

Hermione didn't seem amused by his joke at all, to his disdain, and turned away from him. "Well, I'm fine. I'll talk to Ron later. He'll come around eventually. But he's a stubborn little git, I'll give him that much."

"I agree," Draco murmured. Hermione didn't respond, instead opting to stare at her shoes. As he sat there with her in silence, mulling over the fight she'd had with her best friend, an outrageous idea popped into Draco's head and flew out his mouth before he had a chance to stop it. "Granger, dance with me."

To his surprise, a choking laugh emanated from Hermione's mouth. "Dance with you? By God, Malfoy, I never knew you had a sense of humor."

"I'm serious," Draco replied sternly. "Come dance with me."

Hermione stared him in the face again, realizing that his statement truly wasn't a joke after all. "And why on Earth would I want to do that?" she demanded.

"That's not a question for me to answer," he replied. "That's all on you."

Hermione shot him a sharp glare. "I'm serious, Malfoy. What in the name of all that is good and pure in this forsaken universe just possessed you to ask me to dance with you...and what made you think that I'd ever even say yes? Really?"

Draco shot her a coy grin. "Well, we can sit here arguing about it all night, or you can just dance with me and we don't have to talk about it ever again," he said softly, extending his hand.

Hermione went quiet, and after a brief moment of contemplation, she slowly took his hand and begrudgingly let him pull her up from the floor. He led her back into the Great Hall, knowing that if Blaise was still there and he saw them, he'd be able to deduce why Draco had seemed so melancholy just minutes before. But at that moment, he didn't care. All he cared about was cheering Hermione up.

Draco found an area where there weren't too many people and turned to Hermione, cautiously placing his right hand on her waist, just like McGonagall had taught them to do in her lessons. She didn't object, and placed her left hand on his shoulder, staring off into the distance. He took her other hand, giving it a squeeze of encouragement, and began to sway to the soft rock music that was coming from the stage. To his surprise, it was quite easy to dance with Hermione; unlike Pansy, Hermione moved with grace and seemed to be very light on her feet. Draco couldn't help but smile at her. "You're a great dancer, Granger."

She shrugged in response. "Yeah. I suppose so."

Draco noticed Blaise, who was still sitting at the table, gawking at him, and focused his attention on Hermione again. "Do you want to talk about what happened with you and Weasley?" he asked carefully.

Hermione looked up into his eyes. "Why do you even care, Malfoy?" she asked. "Why do you care what's going on between Ronald and me? Since when do you care about my _feelings_?"

Draco took a deep breath. "I do care about your feelings, Granger. And I care about you, irritating and infuriating as you can be sometimes. I care more than you think I do, whether or not you choose to believe me."

A soft squeak escaped Hermione's throat, but she tried to ignore it; she clearly hadn't expected Draco to say something like that to her. "Oh."

Draco nodded. "So? Do you want to talk about what happened or not?" he asked again.

Hermione thought for a moment, and Draco could clearly see the conflicting emotions dancing through her beautiful brown eyes. There was no doubt in his mind that she was trying very hard to gather up her thoughts, to figure out what in the world she even wanted to say to him. And after a moment, she finally spoke. "No. I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," replied Draco, continuing to sway along to the music. "Then what do you want?"  
Again, Hermione went silent for a few seconds. Her eyes began to well up with tears once more, and she sniffed. "I don't know. I just...just…"

She couldn't seem to find the words, and Draco gave her hand another reassuring squeeze. "Just what?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing, ferret. Just shut up and hold me."

With that, she wrapped her arms around Draco's neck, leaning into his shoulder and closing her eyes. His arms caged her in, protecting her as best he could from everything and everyone, and as he continued to move gently along to the music, one single word escaped his lips: "Okay."

And the Slytherin Prince and the Gryffindor Princess danced for the rest of the night, relishing the comfort and peace that they found in the arms of one another, and not bothering to say a word. Because sometimes, no words are needed.

**(A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed this one. It was sort of a quick-write on my part-not a lot of editing or revising involved, to be honest. But regardless, I still really liked writing it, and I sincerely hope you all liked reading it! Feel free to leave me your feedback! Happy reading, lovelies! ~BlackthornUnicorn98)**


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